


Challenge

by Anonymous



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, But still Laurent, Damen is.....confused, Laurent is slightly less of a shit, M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 17:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13956072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Laurent stared into Damen's impossibly honest eyes, and felt the first twinge of real attraction. Or, perhaps, competition. Lady Jokaste had said he couldn't have this man. His brother had said it. Damen had said it. Hell, the entire country may as well have said it.And so Laurent would have Damen in his bed by the end of the fortnight.





	Challenge

* * *

 

❛ _It may be unfair, but what happens in a few days, sometimes even a single day, can change the course of a whole lifetime._ ❜ ― Khaled Hosseini

* * *

Laurent hated Prince Damianos of Akielos, plain and simple. It was a thought that crossed his mind often in times like this, when he stood on a balcony overlooking Vere and thought of his brother.

The clean, cool breeze that blew over the city and tussled his once-impeccable locks did nothing to cool that hatred as he considered what the upcoming days would be. He would finally be able to face the formidable man he'd heard so much about. To look into the eyes of the one who'd stolen his brother from him so many years ago on the bloody Marlas field. This was what he'd been preparing for all these years, drilling his body hard on training grounds and sharpening his wits with battle strategy from the palace's vast library for. This was finally the time when he would prove himself Damianos's better.

"Your Highness?" A knock at the door startled him out of his dark thoughts and he quickly shoved them away, cursing himself for allowing some of the anger to break past his carefully fortified walls of calculating.

"Come in." His voice was a languid drawl as if he held no interest in what the slave had come to say to him. He even waited a beat before turning to the slave, pacing with measured steps across the marble floor as the man flattened himself to the ground in a show of reverence. "Well?"

"Your presence is requested in the main hall. The... guests... from Akielos are here."

"Hm. Make them wait."

The slave's head jerked up and was quickly dipped back down as he realized his mistake, his pale shoulders visibly trembling at the error. He must be a new pet who'd heard whispers of Laurent's fierce temper when it came to the matter of Akielos, and he half looked like he expected to be flogged. Well, good. Let him go back to the 'guests' sweating to show his fear. Laurent let the moment stretch until he could smell the slave's fear, then dismissed the man and went back to the balcony to wait out just enough time that everyone in the main hall would know that he was doing it out of disregard for the Akielons.

After what he judged was an appropriate amount of time, Laurent sauntered down the hall at an unhurried pace so that anyone watching could see his insolent disinterest. He felt a few of the guards eyeing him as he passed their posts, felt their gazes dip down his tightly clothed body as if they were undressing them, and felt a grim satisfaction in that, too. With how he'd prepared and everything that he was, he'd be Damianos's better in wit, skill, and even looks. He shouldn't be worried. He _shouldn't_ be, but he was.

He reached the heavy doors of the main hall and prepared himself, setting his mouth in a cruel line as booming, barbaric voices laughed and spoke their guttural tongue in front of his father's throne. First impressions were everything, he thought, as he smoothed his stiff-laced collar and gestured for the guards to open the doors. And his would be of a confident man ready to take on the barbarian who had stolen his brother.

The doors opened. The laughter trailed off. Laurent strode in, his head high and his eyes sweeping the hall coldly.

His first impression, as he dimly heard his name announced, was that he'd been right. These men were barbarians. The Akielons were all large and heavily-muscled, their difference to their Veretian counterparts like the difference between a stallion built for speed and a work horse. Their skin was many shades darker than his own, and an appalling amount of it was showing from the gaps in their clothing where pant legs and sleeves should be. They also hadn't been asked to dispose of their weapons, as a courtesy, so the large instruments these men used in war were on full display, showing Laurent that nothing they used for a weapon was refined or delicate.

Laurent forced himself not to smirk at how many of his predictions had been right, instead continuing his sweep of the room until his eyes found who he was searching for.

"So these are your Akielos men," Laurent said, with no little scorn.

Auguste beamed at him, slinging a friendly arm around one of the Akielons next to him.

"They are," he agreed, his lips twitching with mirth.

Because six years ago, on a field by Marlas, the fight had been settled by the sons of two kings coming together in honourable battle. Auguste of Vere and Damianos of Akielos had fought sword-to-sword for the fort to prove which country produced the better warrior; whoever won would take the fort and no more bloodshed would occur between the exhausted armies.

Laurent hadn't been allowed to go in case the Akielons decided to renege on their word and kill both heirs, but he'd heard that it had lasted six bells. That, by the end, both men hadn't the strength to lift their swords so they'd taken to pummeling each other with fists. And then weakly kicking at each other. And finally, grappling uselessly until both of their backs had hit the ground and they'd started laughing.

Auguste always told the story with a gleam in his eye, how his fighting with 'Damen' had won him the respect of every Akielon, how Damen's fighting had won respect with the Veretians. Because it was a draw, the kings had been forced to consider other options, and it was Damen and Auguste who had put forth the idea of a treaty between both countries, with Marlas shared between them as a gesture of goodwill. Damen and Auguste, who were both stubborn bastards and wouldn't let anyone else touch them as they stumbled side-by-side, supporting each other, to the tent their fathers were waiting in.

Since then, their friendship had become legendary among soldiers, and Auguste rode to Akielos at least once a year for a fortnight of mischief with his friend. Auguste also never shut up about how fucking great Damen was. Laurent had heard so many stories over the past six years that the name Damen made him feel physically ill. Damen was the best at swordfighting! His strategies were unbelievable! He beat everyone at games! He was so incredibly loyal! Word was, he was the best fuck in all the land! It was disgusting, just how under Damen's spell Auguste was. Clearly the man was deceiving him and planning to snatch Vere out from under his nose. Why couldn't Auguste see that?

"Ah, is this is Laurent?" a cheery voice asked from his left, and Laurent turned to offer his scathing gaze to the new entry as he continued to walk towards the throne. Except his stride faltered and he stumbled, earning a few hearty chuckles from the men around his brother.

The man walking into the room was... different... than Laurent had expected. Still large, still dark-skinned and dressed in scant clothing, but... There was something about the confident way he carried himself, the easy honesty in his gaze. His mouth was pulled up in a smile with a hint of mischief and the warrior's scars on his body leant him character, telling stories of hard-won battles and scrapes with death. He clearly wasn't some palace brat who'd never been in a fight, and something about him said he liked adrenaline perhaps a bit more than the usual man.

He also looked like he'd just had a good fuck. It was evident in his dishevelled hair and the satisfaction on his face, never mind the pretty blonde on his arm with startlingly blue, startlingly ruthless eyes.

"How could you tell? It couldn't be the colouring of his hair, or the fact that he's dressed better than ten of your nobility stacked together," Auguste joked.

"Auguste," the man said seriously, and Laurent narrowed his eyes, just waiting for the Akielon to attempt asserting dominance over his brother so he could tear him down a peg or ten. "I've seen ten of my nobility stacked together. Now, they may not have been wearing many clothes, but it's an insult to say that there's any sight better."

There was a long pause before everyone except for Laurent and the blonde woman broke out laughing, finding the Akielon's filthy mouth hilarious. Laurent settled with an expression of thinly veiled distaste, using it disguise his surprise that the Akielon's comraderie sounded genuine. Things like that were easy to fake.

"But enough of that. This is your younger brother, the one you've told me so much about. He's..." the Akielon paused and for the first time his eyes assessed Laurent. Laurent found himself unwillingly straightening under the gaze, tilting his chin up a fraction and meeting the Akielon's eyes coolly. "...fiesty, isn't he? That's what you said?"

"That's what I said," Auguste offered warmly, and before Laurent fully realized what was going on, the Akielon had released the woman at his side to take two long strides towards Laurent. They stood appraising each other, Laurent suddenly finding it harder than usual to hold this man's gaze. The Akielon smelled like sex. It was all over him, the pleasure still slightly hazy in his eyes. Usually it wouldn't bother Laurent in the slightest, but to be this close, to have the scent overwhelming his nostrils from a man who he had to concede was attractive... The faintest flush rose in his cheeks, his lips pursing in a thin line.

"I've heard quite a bit about you," the Akielon said with a smile as warm as the sun. "When I'm with your brother, there isn't a night that goes by when he doesn't talk about how proud he is of you."

"Damen!" Auguste protested good-naturedly. Laurent wanted to look at his brother but he was still caught in the Akielon's - in Damianos's gaze. Of course this one was the infamous Damen.

"For the past six years, I've heard about every one of your exploits. Brilliant in battle strategy, a fine swordsman, a razor-edged tongue... I know we've never met, but I've already come to admire you, Prince Laurent. It will be a pleasure getting to know you better."

Damen tipped down in a bow that, while lacking the usual Veretian grace, easily made up in genuineness. And, just like that, all Laurent's animosity for Auguste's 'stupid, clumsy, barbaric Akielon manipulator' went out the window. He'd spent six years thinking that his brother was forsaking him for this man and hating him for it, but now he realized that his brother hadn't forgotten him at all. Or overlooked any of his accomplishments; if he'd been bragging to his best friend, he'd actually been paying attention. Which meant his brother was much more attentitive than he'd expected, which then meant that his brother would know if Damen was manipulating him.

"The pleasure is all mine," Laurent heard himself say distantly as these facts left his mind reeling, his hatred extinguished like a candle flame. "I've heard of you, as well. You're quite impressive yourself."

Damen waved the compliment away as if it embarassed him, but Laurent was seeing him in a new light now. He considered all that his brother had said and found that, though it had been repressed, he _was_ impressed with Damen's accomplishments. His eyes flicked briefly to Damen's pretty companion, who looked just as satisfied as Damen. _All_ of his accomplishments. It made his face heat up even more, because if there was one area of expertise he didn't have, it was sex.

"Well, now that the introductions between my two favourite people are out of the way, I think I should re-introduce you to my father," Auguste broke in, interrupting Laurent's thoughts. "He's sick at the moment, so you'll have to come to his bedchambers. I believe he's been waiting for a while. I hope your... discussion... with Lady Jokaste was worth it."

Damen straightened from his bow, looking bashful as he began apologizing and making his way over to Auguste. Laurent felt his eyes following the Akielon despite himself, curious now that his hatred was gone. Damen had come to Vere for two reasons, the first, of course, being to visit his old friend. The second was a different matter altogether, one that had Laurent's mind thoughtfully considering Damen's future.

Marlas had been enough to hold Vere and Akielos together, but both kings believed something stronger was needed to cement their alliance. With some grumbles from older cities - most notably, the city gifted to Laurent's uncle by Aleron - what was needed was a political foothold rather than a physical one. The proposal had come from Aleron and been grudgingly accepted by Theomedes; Damianos would marry a Veretian noble. Who he married was up to him to decide, so long as they were of high standing in Vere's court.

"Do you mean to take him to bed?"

Laurent offered no sign of surprise as the woman Damen had been with came to stand at his elbow, watching Auguste and Damen leave behind a fan that she gently fluttered at her throat.

"He's quite good. Your colouring would certainly attract him too - he enjoys blonds."

Laurent fixed the woman - Lady Jokaste - with a cold, unreadable stare, waiting.

"Ah, manipulative, too, are we?" She smiled, all teeth. "He'd enjoy that as well. I won't lie and say he only lies with women - he's been known to take men from time to time. However, I will say this, and I'll only say it once, so you'd better listen carefully. Damianos is mine. He will take his Veretian bride for politics, and he will bed her for honour, but I will be warming his sheets at night, and I will be giving him his children. Do you understand?"

"What I understand," Laurent drawled, relaxing into a position that said he wasn't worried in the slightest. "Is that you feel threatened and I haven't even expressed intent to seduce him. With your relationship - if it can be called that - so fragile, I have to wonder if _he_ knows that you'll be warming his sheets after he finds his bride."

Lady Jokaste gave him a long, appraising look as if re-assessing him. After a moment, she snapped her fan shut and gracefully stepped around Laurent to move after where Damen had left.

"We'll see," she said, a little too smugly as she reached out to tap her fan lightly against Laurent's shoulder. "After he finds his _bride_."

Before Laurent could conjure up a reply, she was gone, leaving him staring after her with narrowed eyes. Perhaps Damen was more trouble than he'd initially thought after all. Less than a quarter bell and Laurent had already earned an enemy from _looking_ at the Akielon. With a breath of frustration, he turned towards the remaining Akielons, who sketched bows but looked as if they were amused at the exchange. They were too far to have heard, but he could see from their faces that they'd guessed - mostly correctly - what it was about.

"I," said Laurent, realizing a minute too late that he shouldn't be trying to explain himself. "I will retire to my chambers. If my brother is looking for me, tell him that I am there."

He turned on his heel without another word, taking long strides towards the door.

"Shall we tell Damen as well?" one of the men called. Laurent kept walking, knowing that to turn around and give a reaction would make him a laughing stock to these barbarians. It was ridiculous, anyhow, the suggestion that he wanted his brother's friend. He'd not backed down from Jokaste because it would seem cowardly, but she had nothing to fear from him concerning Damianos.

He didn't want Damen. No matter how infuriatingly attractive the man's smile was.

 

"I heard you want Damianos," Nicaise said conversationally, cross-legged and eating grapes on Laurent's bed. It was the first thing he'd said since he wandered blithely into Laurent's room and started eating whatever food was there. Laurent pinched the bridge of his nose in a rare show of emotion as he glared at his pet.

Nicaise was by far the best thing that had come from him exploring the streets in disguise. Naturally, he'd wanted to know what people were saying about the royal family and his brother, so he'd set about exploring the sprawling city of Arles in a wool cap. People were generally favourable - obviously a few disapproving of the alliance with Akielon - but that wasn't what had caught his attention. Despite his initial purpose, his new one became finding a clever thief who was somehow managing to swindle half the market. In a place where every person was shrewd and played their hands close, it was no small feat to swindle anyone. And this thief was doing it to everyone.

It had begun with something being stolen, and that stolen thing being traded for something slightly better. Then traded up again for something even better, and on like that until the thief arrayed himself an item worth a great deal. The item was sold and the thief made a small fortune. Then he began again, stealing and trading up. Merchants were getting beyond fed up because it was starting fights between people who claimed one trader had stolen from another, when, in fact, the thief had stolen the item and traded it in. By the time Laurent heard the story, traders didn't even want to trade with honest folk because they were afraid the goods were stolen.

It took him two days to find the thief. It took him less than that to convince the thief - Nicaise - to become his pet. That had been five years ago, when Nicaise was nine. Now, at thirteen, he was perhaps the most conniving person in the court save for Laurent, who enjoyed teaching his 'pet' more ways to swindle people. He knew the court was confused with his decision to have Nicaise because he didn't use the boy in the traditional way one used a pet, but neither of them cared. Let the court guess at what they did behind closed doors.

Which, at this moment, was throwing grapes. Or, to be more precise, Nicaise was throwing grapes into Laurent's mouth while Laurent settled back on his bed, gazing up at the opulent silk drapings above it.

"I don't want him." Chew methodically. "But I wouldn't mind getting to know him better." Swallow. "If I'm to help Auguste, it would be prudent to learn the ways of our Akielon allies." Catch another grape. "And he isn't like... what I thought he was." Chew methodically. "From the brief glimpse I saw, he shares my brother's propensity for honesty and brutal naïveté." Swallow. "So I suppose we'll get along." Catch another grape. "And I'll make an effort to get to know him, for my brother's sake."

"Hm," Nicaise said airily. "That's good. I was worried, because I heard he's declared his intent to fuck you before he leaves."

Chew metho - Laurent choked, a grape getting stuck in his throat. It took quite a bit of thumping and watery eyes to dislodge it while Nicaise smirked, not lifting a finger to help.

"You little shit," Laurent ground out, voice hoarse.

"I would've called the royal physician if I thought you were in real danger. But I did see the colour of your face before you started to choke, you know. ...He _is_ attractive."

"You were lying." It came out flat as Laurent attempted to regain some of his dignity, forcing it into a statement instead of a question.

"Well, yes, but that's besides the point. You're always so prudish when it comes to anyone, and - don't interrupt me - it's good to see you take an interest in someone's physical appearance. You don't have to shy away from wanting to be fucked by someone you barely know. I bet it would feel good. He'd probably be rough, take you right up against the - "

"One more word and I'll have you flogged," Laurent said in an even tone, holding Nicaise's gaze with sharp eyes that said he wasn't bluffing.

"If you need my advice on seducing him, I'll be here," Nicaise answered, popping another grape casually in his mouth because he knew Laurent was bluffing.

Laurent fell back into the softness of his bed, settling his hands comfortably behind his head.

"I assure you, that won't be necessary. I've known this man for all of a moment and half the palace thinks I want to fuck him. Perhaps getting to know him better isn't such a good idea after all."

"Perhaps we should have a wager," Nicaise shot back, his eyes bright at the challenge. "I wager a week visiting those overstuffed, pompous old men on the council on your behalf that you'll be back to your room before dinner's over to ask me how to seduce someone."

"It frightens me that you know how to seduce someone."

Nicaise snorted. "I spent nine years of my life in a whorehouse, watching my mother do it. Even if I've never had to do it myself, I'm still the more experienced out of us two. Now stop stalling for time. Do you accept the bet?"

"Fine." Laurent wasn't overly concerned; he knew himself too well. "And when I win, you'll attend to me like an actual slave for a week. I'm tired of unlacing my clothes."

"Deal." Nicaise's grin was deadly. "Now the first lesson - of the many I know will come - is free. Let's find you something breathtaking to wear."

 

Laurent should've guessed that his brother would seat him beside Damen. Down the long table, the rest of the Akielons were randomly distributed so that they'd have a chance to mingle with the Veretians, but Auguste had wanted what he was warmly referring to as his 'two brothers' close. So Laurent, of course, sat beside Auguste at the head of the table, while Damen sat on Laurent's left. Curiously, Lady Jokaste was among the random distribution instead of near Damen. But, of course, since Damen was here to find someone to wed, he should look as free from attachment as possible.

"We didn't quite get the chance to talk," Damen said as slaves began bringing out the first course. After Auguste's speech about a warm welcome to the Akielons, everyone was eager to speak with their foreign allies about the differences between the countries. One of them, Laurent was quick to notice, was their obvious discomfort with the pets servicing their masters in public. Damen in particular looked slightly appalled at a young man who appeared to be doing something creative with his hips while he sat on his master's lap and allowed himself to be fed.

"No, we didn't," Laurent agreed, trying to come up with something diplomatic to say and failing as he watched Damen's nose wrinkle at the ministrations another pet was providing to her mistress. "I assume it isn't like this in your country?" he added after a moment, amusement colouring his tone. Damen actually seemed to flush, though it was hard to tell with the colour of his skin.

"Our relations aren't quite so... public," Damen got out, tearing his eyes away from the pets and focusing on Laurent's face. "Your brother told me, but I didn't quite believe him. It's one thing to hear, but another altogether to see it."

"I'd think, after what I've heard about your conquests, that you'd be comfortable with the act." It just sort of slipped out in a way it certainly wouldn't have if Damen didn't have such a distracting face. It wasn't the symmetry so much as the fact that he wore his heart plain on it with no attempt at disguise. It was different, in a refreshing way.

"Ah, that's - " Damen dropped his eyes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not the act I'm uncomfortable with; far from it. It's simply that, to me, the act - and the mutual pleasure my partner and I gain - it's intimate. Private."

"Truly?" Laurent took a thoughtful sip of water, somehow enjoying seeing this great warrior flustered. "But how will that play out when you're forced to consummate your marriage to the Veretian noble in front of the council? I mean - " he continued, hiding a smirk when Damen choked on the wine he'd started to drink. " - they will expect that. It's for the good of our country and yours."

Damen started banging his chest, his eyes wide on Laurent's, wider still when he realized it wasn't a joke. Before Laurent could speak again, he heard Auguste charmingly excuse himself from conversation with whoever was beside him and lean over to arch his brows at Laurent and Damen.

"You've defeated Akielon's best man already?" Auguste asked Laurent, wicked amusement in his eyes. "My dear little brother, you _are_ a force to be reckoned with."

"Auguste." Damen's voice was desperately ragged, as if he'd been run through with a knife. "Is it true that I'll have to consummate my marriage in front of your old, dusty room of councilmen?"

Auguste's other brow arched up and he stared at Laurent, a silent question on his face. Laurent spread his hands expansively, shrugging.

"No," Auguste said, but it was to Laurent, and it was incredulous. "No... They wouldn't..." He paused and Laurent saw the understanding bloom in his eyes. "But of course they would. Akielons might accept it without proof, but Veretians would want it to be witnessed. Forgive me, Damen, I hadn't even thought of that. Laurent is too clever by a half."

"I can't," Damen grit out, looking absolutely mortified. Laurent was beginning to find it hard to surpress the laughter that was threatening to rise within him at the expression, as if Damen was being asked to fall on his own sword. "I don't think I'll be able to... perform under those circumstances."

"Oh my dear, good, man," Auguste said sympathetically, squeezing Damen's shoulder as he caught Laurent's eyes in mirth. "We'll have to train the Akielon out of you. How about we get you a pet? We can get you the best of the best, a young man to show you how it's done. I'm sure we have a few blonds with fair skin and blue eyes around."

Auguste winked at Laurent and for a second Laurent thought his brother was referring to him. That his brother was suggesting he please Damen here and now, in front of everybody. Heat rose in his cheeks and suddenly he understood Damen's reluctance, his mouth opening to spew out some horrified excuse, until his brother turned and beckoned a slave over to speak. Laurent's cheeks heated even worse as he realized his brother hadn't been referring to him at all, and that the wink was simply because the traits Damen desired were in abundance in Vere where they weren't in Akielos. Idiot. Of course his brother wouldn't suggest anything of the sort, though the picture was in his mind now and he wanted to scrub it clean so it wasn't so plain on his face.

"You understand, don't you?" Damen asked, looking almost pathetic as he reached out to touch Laurent's sleeve. "I can see the red in your face. You wouldn't want to do it either, would you?"

Laurent was flustered, which made him angry, which made him coldly tug his sleeve away. "Don't presume to touch me," he snapped, then instantly felt bad when Damen's face took on a smidge of hurt before it was - poorly - concealed.

"Forgive me." Damen dipped his head, his open expression shuttering closed as he drew his hand back and used it to pick up his food. "I've heard so much about you that I feel like I know you. I see now that I have a lot more to learn."

"No - It's - "

But Damen had already turned away to make small talk with a Veretian woman beside him, the woman gazing at him adoringly from under her lashes. Laurent's jaw clenched, his hand curling into a fist, especially when he saw the smirk of an attentive Lady Jokaste from further down the table.

"I'm here to be fed," came a warm breath in his ear, and Laurent steeled himself as he looked up into the sly face of Nicaise, who had presumably seen the entire exchange.

"Feed yourself," Laurent ordered scathingly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes when, instead of finding a chair, Nicaise sat on his lap like a cat that had claimed its seat.

"You must be the Akielon prince," Nicaise chirped brightly, completely interrupting Damen's conversation with the woman, who looked mystified at the fact that she'd been speaking to a prince and then interrupted by a prince's pet.

"Yes." Damen couldn't hide his surprise at the sight of Nicaise on Laurent's lap, or the faint traces of disgust that he tried to hide.

"Nicaise," Laurent began sharply.

"He's not fucking me," Nicaise said easily in response to Damen's look. He leaned his head down against Laurent's shoulder, more like a child doting on their older sibling than a pet. "I was homeless and in the streets when he found me. Beaten and bloodied by a group of soldiers. Laurent fought them off, then took me in as his pet. We've been good friends since. He saved me."

"Really?" Damen was completely taken in by Nicaise's bullshit, looking at Laurent with a new light in his eyes. Laurent resisted the urge to dump his entire pitcher of water on Nicaise's head. "You have a kind heart, Prince Laurent."

After a sharp jab to the ribs that no one could see, Laurent managed to grit out. "Laurent is fine. And I apologize for earlier, I didn't mean to be cold. I'm simply not used to the... finer points of companionship."

He pinched the skin on Nicaise's back sharply, satisfied when the boy stiffened, and when he twisted ever so slightly Nicaise made a sound and was off his lap in a second. Folding both hands delicately under his chin, Laurent offered his pet a chilling smile and was rewarded with a scowl.

"Nicaise, if you would be so kind as to run down to the kitchen and fetch me a bowl of grapes."

"I hope you choke on them," Nicaise returned sweetly as he left.

"The poor boy doesn't quite understand humour yet," Laurent told Damen, feigning sympathy. Damen grunted, eyes darting between Nicaise's retreating form and Laurent, something in his gaze sharper than Laurent had expected.

And then: "Why did he lie?"

"Lie?" Laurent repeated, forcing his face into blankness.

"He wasn't beaten by soldiers. Veretian soldiers tend to go for the face first, if they're beating somebody. They would've broken his nose, but he has no telltale bump or slight crookedness to it. No scars either, not from biting into his lip or from gauntlets striking him. No scars also mean he likely wasn't homeless, either. A face like that, even as a boy - especially as a boy - would've attracted someone depraved. He wouldn't have made it long enough to be your pet."

All that from a cursory glance and a vague story. Laurent's regard of Damianos suddenly rose by roughly half; that he could fight was obvious from the stories, but he was much cleverer than one should expect from a barbarian.

"You're right," Laurent said abruptly, taking his goblet in long, slender fingers and drawing from it. "He lied. I took him from someplace else on the streets because I saw his potential." He offered no other explanations; there was power in knowledge, and he didn't give it out for free, even to his brother's best friend.

"So the reason he lied..." Damen began, then paused, a grin taking over his face. It was the same type of grin Auguste had worn when he'd once found out that Laurent had, in a moment of petty revenge for the cook who'd given him a sour look, replaced all the sugar with salt.

"I don't care for the way you're looking at me," Laurent said bluntly, carefully keeping his posture relaxed.

"I don't care for you drinking my wine," Damen shot back, and it was then that Laurent knew why he had such a bitter taste in his mouth. But his water had been...

Nicaise. Of course.

"I'll drink your wine if I choose to." Laurent held Damen's gaze as he very deliberately tilted the goblet back and drained the entire thing before placing it daintily on the table. He wouldn't give the Akielon the satisfaction of seeing that he'd been duped.

"Prince Dami - "

"I'd like some more wine," Damen called, not even seeming to have heard the woman he'd been speaking with previously. There was the sparkle of a challenge in his eyes as he held Laurent's gaze, neither of them breaking away as a slave poured more wine. Damen reached for the goblet but Laurent took hold of it again, draining it with cold precision, setting it back down a little harder than intended.

"This time, I'd like another goblet." Damen leaned back as if he'd won, reaching for the new goblet, a look on his face that said 'Well played.' The slave poured the wine. Damen moved to lift the goblet to his lips. Laurent reached out before he could, seizing Damen's wrist. He didn't notice that the room had quieted, or that attention had shifted to them. He pulled Damen's wrist down towards him, down, down, the resistance finally disappearing as the goblet reached his lips.

Damen stared, considering. "You could ask for you own wine."

"I don't want my own wine." Laurent released Damen's wrist. "I want yours. Give it to me."

He had no idea what he was trying to prove; he could feel a light flush on his face and the room was beginning to tilt softly. He never could hold his alcohol.

Damen barely hesitated before tilting the cup, surprisingly gentle as he let Laurent drink the rest of it without spilling it or tilting the glass too much. He slowly set the goblet down when he was done, his eyes looking between Laurent and the goblet with a shrewd calculating that set Laurent's teeth on edge. Laurent had won; couldn't Damen see that? There was nothing else he could -

"You," Damen pointed to a random slave, his voice full of authority that the slave scrambled to obey. "I want the wine poured directly into my mouth."

The slave looked terrified at the command, because if he brought his hands too low and touched an Akielon prince, it was grounds for death. But disobeying was as well, so he nodded mutely and padded softly up to Damen, waiting until Damen had tilted his head back before he started to pour. After a moment, Damen lifted his hand and the slave ceased pouring, bowing his way away from the table.

Laurent stood up, waiting for the world to stop swaying, and took the small step between his chair and Damen's.

"The wine is not yours." Laurent didn't know what he was doing, didn't know what he was saying as he started leaning down, intending to take it directly from Damen's mouth.

"I think that's enough!" The voice was jovial, but it was strained, like the humour in it was forced. Laurent felt the fine silk he'd dressed in grabbed a moment later, and Auguste gave a sharp tug so that he tumbled back into his seat. "Little brother, it was a fine show, and I think you've proven to everyone what great lengths you'll go to keep Veretian wine from Akielon. Naturally, I agree; in their wine they use strawberries, which they buy from us, so we wouldn't want them to stop buying because they've tasted something better."

The tension in the room eased as people laughed at that, like it was some show that had been meant to happen. Laurent turned to his brother and saw the strain in Auguste's jaw and, suprisingly, the hint of warning he was directing at Damen. As the talking started up again, Laurent leaned in close to Auguste so that nobody - even Damen - could hear.

"Why'd you stop me?" he asked, annoyed. Whatever contest it was, he'd been about to win and both him and Damen knew it.

"Damen likes blonds," Auguste said carefully, glancing to where his friend had suddenly become very invested in his food. "He's a good man, but sometimes I don't think he understands the effects he has on the hearts of the people he's with. I won't pretend to understand why, but I know that you place more value on sex than many others at this court. Damen doesn't. And he's to be married. Do you understand what I'm saying? I don't want to see your heart broken, little brother."

For once in his life, Laurent was not aligned with his brother. He rose unsteadily to his feet, anger coming over him like a thunderclap as he slammed one of his hands down on the table. "Don't you _dare_ presume that I need your protection in this or in anything. I am a prince as well, and I'll do what I please. With _whom_ I please. I'm no longer a child running around your feet, Auguste; I don't care how good you are at fighting, _I'm_ the one with the right mind to take over the thr - "

"Perhaps." The voice was pitched low, but it carried, interrupting Laurent mid-rant with its quiet authority. "Perhaps I should escort the prince outside to clear his head."

"Perhaps you shouldn't escort the prince anywhere," Auguste countered, rising.

"Auguste, your brother is drunk, but I know he loves you. As you love him. As _I_ love you. You know I'd never. I just don't want either of you to say something you'd regret."

Auguste hesitated, clearly torn, but Damen had made a good case and it wasn't like Laurent was in any state to go anywhere on his own. And, of course, Nicaise was nowhere to be seen, despite the fact that he should be the one doing the escorting. Auguste finally waved his hand dismissively, allowing Damen to firmly take hold of one of Laurent's arms and loop it around his neck. The last thing Laurent saw before they left the hall was the look on Lady Jokaste's face. It made him titter all the way down the next hall.

"You're causing me some grief, Prince Damianos," Laurent said with a small sigh, content to put his weight onto the hard warmth of the man beside him. "Making enemies, losing friends. Were you sent to destabilize my country?"

"I don't seem to recall doing or saying anything to provoke you into drinking my wine when you can't hold alcohol." Damen's voice was soft, quietly amused as he turned to look at Laurent out of the corner of his eye. "Though I must say, I'm impressed at your dedication to winning."

"Dedication?" Laurent snorted unceremoniously, the ground seeming to get closer then further in alternating waves. "So what if I had took it from your mouth? You make it sound like I would've been overcome with lust for you the moment our lips touched. You're an object to me, Prince Damianos. Like a goblet or a pitcher."

"Oh. Of course." Damen clearly didn't believe him, but Laurent was too tired - or maybe too drunk - to argue.

"You think you're so attractive, don't you?" Laurent muttered darkly, trying not to stumble. "Attractive enough to woo me in less than a day. With your - your competitiveness, and your quick mind, and your muscles, and the dumb way you wear your heart on your sleeve."

Damen stopped, nearly sending Laurent pitching to the ground. The only thing that held him up for a second was Damen, and he turned to find the Akielon prince staring down at him as if trying to solve a riddle. He felt his heart speed up marginally, with Damen's face so close and those arms wrapped around his waist to keep him standing.

"I'll admit that you're certainly one of the more better-looking people I've seen in my life, but I'm not going to attempt to woo you. I wasn't lying to your brother back there. I respect him - and you, by extension - too much to even consider it. Besides, I'm here to find a marriage prospect. I've decided to become more serious about that, so I'll no longer engage in any... dalliances. I want this to work between our countries."

Laurent stared into Damen's impossibly honest eyes, and felt the first twinge of real attraction. Or, perhaps, competition. Lady Jokaste had said he couldn't have this man. His brother had said it. Damen had said it. Hell, the entire country may as well have said it.

And so Laurent would have Damen in his bed by the end of the fortnight. Not for anything so ridiculous as love - as his brother seemed to think - but simply because everyone said he wasn't allowed to. His decision came with a finality that made him smile a shark's smile, which seemed to unnerve Damen.

"Of course, Prince Damianos. I want the same, so I hope you'll give me the chance to prove to you how much I want our friendship to work. By the end of this fortnight, I hope we'll be quite close."

"Good." Damen exhaled in relief, grinning a little. "And you can call me Damen. This has certainly been an... eventful day, but I should get back before your brother decides he wants to have me flogged. Can you get to your bed alright?"

"He can," Nicaise's voice came from the doorway.

"Fantastic. Goodnight, Prin - Laurent."

Laurent's smile only grew as Nicaise came up to help him, and as Damen stepped away he 'accidentally' let his fingers brush across the Akielon's stomach. Damen shivered, blinking rapidly and quickly retreating out of Laurent's reach.

"Goodnight, Damen." It was the lazy, arrogant voice of a man who knew he was getting exactly what he wanted, and the strange look in Damen's face proved it'd had exactly the effect Laurent wanted.

After the Akielon was gone, Nicaise dropped his arm, letting Laurent stumble his way into his room and then to his bed by himself. As he collapsed, Nicaise shut the door and sat primly at the end of the bed, inspecting his nails.

"You owe me a week of you reporting to the council instead of making me do it," Nicaise said, a little too smugly.

"Yes," Laurent agreed, a faint smile on his face. "And you'll get your week. I'll report to them during Damianos's wedding."

"Wha - But they don't require reports for six days after the wedding!"

"You never specified a timeline."

"You're a fucking snake, Laurent."

"Thank you. Now..." Laurent pushed himself up on his elbow, all pretense of sleepiness gone. "It's time to come up with a plan to make Damen mine. Within a fortnight."


End file.
